White Flag
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: The team takes a seemingly easy job transporting supplies to a research team in Northern Canada. (Taking the route of established Quintis, early S2 dynamic Waige.)
1. Ease

**So I've been going back and forth working on this story for, oh gosh, probably a couple of months now. But it's sort of been sitting on the back burner while I worked and prepped for NaNo and all that. But we're getting an episode called "White Out" and if that turns out to be an episode involving them being in a snowy environment, I wanted to actually finish this up and publish it before we get too much information on that ep. So here's chapter one.**

* * *

"Are you thinking of someone of the male persuasion?" Toby asked as Sylvester made a mark on his tally sheet. Four questions down. Sixteen to go.

Paige nodded.

"Does he live in the United States?"

Another nod.

"Is he a political figure?"

"Nope."

"Damn." The behaviorist drummed his fingers on the table.

Paige looked at the person whose turn it was. "Happy?"

"Adam Scott."

She leaned back a few inches in surprise. "How did you know?"

"September thirtieth, twenty fourteen," Happy said. "You mentioned that you had a 'ridiculous little crush' on him. I remember it because one of my awful foster fathers was named Adam Scott and for a moment I was trying to figure out how the heck you knew the bastard."

"Fair enough. Your turn."

"Fine. I'm thinking of a person. Question one. Sylvester?"

"Cabe."

"No. Toby?"

"No," Sylvester said, gesturing toward the person who had just entered the garage. "Cabe."

"Morning team," Cabe said. "Got a job for you."

"This what we talked about last night?" Walter asked as he trotted down the stairs.

"Yep." Cabe faced the rest. "There are two rival research companies drilling up near the pole. ATEX and Inkorporated. Can't go into detail on what it's about given I don't know much myself, but it's related to sustainability. Molina has assured me that while important, this isn't as risky as most of our endeavors. Our investment is in the success of Inkorporated, as ATEX has had support from organizations that have been previously linked to possible terrorist activity."

"That sounds like a lot of 'maybes'." Paige said, folding her arms.

"All we have to do," Cabe said, "is bring them supplies they need but don't have the manpower to go get. They're on the verge of a breakthrough and need to run a few more tests to get word out before their competitors. As we support them, we will provide assistance."

"It's an easy job," Walter said. "Supervise the supplies up to the base. Then ride back. Four hour drive roundtrip. Tops. I'll be driving the van; I need someone to ride with me and two people to stay at the outpost and keep us on radio communication in case weather blows up."

"I'll come," Paige said. "I could go for an easy mission. And God knows I could use some time out of the city."

"I don't like snow or back roads," Sylvester said. "But I could be one of the ones in the out - outpost. Surveillance imaging seems to show a pretty...cozy place."

"Doc and I can go," Happy said. "I'm sure he'd be happy to."

"Cozy place?" Toby said, raising his eyebrows and grinning when she rolled her eyes. "Be happy to do it. You can stay here, Sylvester."

"Oh thank God."

"It's settled then," Cabe said. "The four of you will depart in an hour, be back by sunset. Nice to have a job where we aren't putting our lives on the line for once."

"Unless the ATEX people find out we're moving the supplies," Sylvester said.

Toby raised an eyebrow as he adjusted his hat. "Way to keep it positive, Dodd."

* * *

"Sylvester was right," Toby said, raising an eyebrow at Happy as they walked into the outpost. "Cozy. I certainly don't mind spending a few hours in this little winter wonderland."

The building they were in was a twenty four foot by twenty four foot wooden cabin, furnished with a woodstove, a table covered in laptops, walkie talkies, and what appeared to be some sort of stereo system, and a couch. There was an outhouse about five feet from the front door.

"This isn't a date night," Happy said matter of factly, setting her stuff down on the couch and turning to the table. "It's a mission."

"Come on," Toby said, walking up behind her and kissing her on the cheek. "Live a little."

"When the job is over," she said, playfully shoving him away.

"Okay, how about this," Toby said. "We await word from Walter and Paige that they've dropped the supplies off at the Inkorporated base. Then we see if we can get creative on that little couch."

She looked at him. "Fine. But only if you keep that woodstove running while I set up this tracker on Walter and Paige's van," Happy said. "Thermometer says it is fifty degrees in here and I'm not taking my pants off unless you can up that significantly."


	2. Light

**Here's chapter two! Glad to see all the follows so far, glad that people are interested in what happens next! Remember, authors love reviews, they're what keeps us wanting to write more. :)**

* * *

"I don't like driving in the snow," Paige said. "I had it growing up, but we moved to a warmer area by the time I was old enough to drive."

"We didn't have much snow in Ireland," Walter said, "but when we did, I drove in it."

"You were old enough to drive when you were still in Ireland?"

"I didn't say that."

He gave her a smirk, and Paige rolled her eyes. "I did always think snowmobiling looked like a lot of fun."

"Hmmm." Walter looked thoughtful, and she raised an eyebrow at him, the other one shooting up when he gunned the van, letting it skip forward over the snowy road.

"And what are you doing?" she asked playfully, liking the grin on his face as they rolled along.

"Having a little fun," he said. "This could be the modern version of that sleigh song."

"I don't think so," she said, rolling her eyes. He leaned toward her, his eyes on the road, as if his shift in motion could help them around the turn up ahead. The car lurched, dragging them over to the side.

"Walter!" she shrieked, "this is dangerous!"

"Nahhhh," he said, looking mildly panicked when, as if on cue, the van bounced off the road, hitting the frozen, bumpy ground with a loud thud. He wheeled it back the other direction, feeling the antilock breaks kick in to help with the correction, then they were sailing, quickly but smoothly, back along the middle of the road.

"You are insane," she said, shaking her head.

"Hey, I've done a lot of stuff that put me in a life threatening situation," he said, "worst we get out of that is a little scare and maybe break one of those little twigs they're calling trees."

"You and I have slightly different definitions of 'harmless fun'."

* * *

"See?" Toby asked, his hand running along Happy's hip. "Just a little bit of harmless fun on the job."

"Mmmm hmmmm," she said, "unless we missed the radio call from Walter and Paige letting us know they've arrived at the station. Then we don't know when they'll be back, we won't know if they don't show up on time..."

"You know there hasn't been time for them to get there yet," Toby said. His eyebrows shot up, as if he'd just thought of something. "Although...it is _me_ you're with, so then again, they might be almost back already."

She actually snorted. "Get off me, doc, we gotta get back to work."

"Fiiiiine." Toby rolled his eyes as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Where are my pants?" Happy frowned, looking around the tiny room.

"Forget your pants," Toby said. "Where is my hat?"

"Yeah, because that's the article of clothing most necessary to have when Walter and Paige get back." Happy spotted something wedged between the cushions of the couch and tugged on it. "Ah, here we are."

"And here's my hat," Toby said, whisking it off one of the tables. There was a clattering sound. "Uh oh," he said, reaching down to pick up one of the radios."

"Oh my god, please tell me you didn't break another radio. These aren't your cheap, two mile radius walkie talkies you know."

There was a beeping and then Walter's voice. "O'Brien to Quinn."

Toby made a show of looking offended as he handed Happy the device. "It's for you."

"Please tell me you aren't there yet," she said. "Toby doesn't need another ego boost."

"What?"

"Nothing, go ahead."

"We're about a half an hour out," Walter said, and Happy gave Toby a smirk. "We wanted to make sure you two had enough wood for the stove in case this storm Paige has pulled up on radar blows in faster than expected. We'll easily be back before it gets here, but the four of us may be holed up for a few hours awaiting extraction."

"Thanks," Happy said. "We've probably got a good twelve hours' supply in the corner, especially if we control the oxygen vents so the fire burns cooler but slower."

"Also the couch is really comfortable!" Toby said, louder than necessary for them to hear, his face close to the radio. "I personally found it...omph," he protested as he was knocked onto said couch by Happy.

"Stay safe out there, you guys," Happy said. "We'll see you in a couple hours."


	3. Bang

**Updating double tonight because there's gonna be several chapters to go and I want to finish this before I go out of town on Tuesday to a place with no internet. This chapter is exclusively the Walter/Paige part of the storyline, but for the Quintis readers, we'll be checking back with them next chapter!**

* * *

"We are indebted to you. Anything we can do, ever, just ask."

It was an odd comment coming from one of the women on the Inkorporated team. Walter and Paige had been sent by the government on a legal provisions mission. The researchers owed them nothing.

"We just..." the leader shrugged. "We just really appreciate the support is all."

"Glad to provide it," Walter said. "We'll be going now, want to get back before that storm hits."

"Sure thing." She extended her hand, and both Walter and Paige shook it.

* * *

"Look at this radar," Paige said. "Actually, eyes on the road. The storm is blowing in quicker than they thought. We will barely get back to the outpost at this rate."

"The road is still clear," Walter said. "I'll just step on it a bit, we'll be fine."

"Okay." Paige shifted her weight. "Because I just have a sweater on under this coat."

"We'll get there," Walter said, watching the speedometer climb higher. "Don't worry, we won't go too fast. Just to keep moving along."

"I'm not worried," Paige said. "So tell me about that experiment you brought up right before we reached the research station."

* * *

The next twenty minutes passed with Walter explaining in great detail how he was going to "change how everyone perceives energy efficiency," and Paige smiled as she listened to him – and watched him. When he got passionate about something, it was evident, not just in what he said, or the way he said it, but in how he gestured with his hands, how he smiled as he talked about it, how he looked eagerly at her, wanting her to understand exactly what made this so important and exciting.

"Once I do that," Walter said, "we'll have more jobs than we know what to do with, more...more _money_ than we'll know what to do with." He shook his head in wonderment. "We'll have the luxury of turning down jobs if they aren't our speed or if they aren't a matter of national security, we won't have to do things just to get by. We'll be able to..."

He trailed off. Paige blinked, wondering what he was about to say. "Have personal lives?" she offered.

He looked at her. "Have personal lives." He paused. "Matter of fact I was just thinking..."

Something cut Walter off with a loud bang, and then there was a violent lurch of the van as it cut hard to the right. Paige's eyes widened. "Walter?" she asked, holding on to the handle in the door and glancing over to make sure it was locked and she wasn't about to throw herself outward into the snow.

"Ah...ah..." Walter frowned as he tried to force the vehicle to go in the opposite direction. The result was a near one eighty degree spin that was derailed by a sudden careen off to the side, clearing the road and slamming into snow covered rock.

"Dammit," Walter said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Paige," he said, leaning over to her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out quickly. "Yeah, I think so." She looked forward, toward the part of the van buried in the snow. "Is this thing driveable?"

"I'm going to check. Stay here, okay? Don't move, you might have injuries the adrenaline is covering."

"So might you."

He hesitated. "Fair enough. But I'm already moving so you stay still, okay?"

She rolled her eyes as Walter exited the van and dropped to the ground, looking underneath. Then he rose, walking around to her side of the van, frowning and putting his hands on his hips. He reached down, picked up a chunk of ice, and flung it.

"Walter," she said, climbing out of the van. "What's..." she followed his eyes. "Oh, my god. The tire's blown."

"It must have happened when when the tire went off the road on our way up. Pressure got low these past few hours, then the speed of the car heated up the tire and caused it to blow out. Dammit!" he picked up another chunk of ice that had come loose in the collision, flinging it in the other direction. "We don't have a spare on this thing."

"We can call Happy and Toby," she said, shivering. The wind was picking up.

"And have them do what?" Walter asked. "They don't have a vehicle, and we're hours out from extraction."

"They could let Cabe and Sylvester know we aren't able to get back, and they can send rescue for us."

"We're still going to be here for..." Walter walked past her and leaned into the front of the van, reaching for his radio. Then he stopped, frowning. "Uh oh."

"What?"

He wrinkled his nose, backing out of the van and shutting the door firmly. "Fumes. Nothing dangerous I don't think in terms of the engine blowing, but we can't stay up there.

Paige wrapped her arms around herself. "We'll freeze out here!"

Walter glanced at the van. "We can get in the back," he said, "now that there aren't any supplies back there. At least we'll be out of the wind."


	4. Shiver

**New chapter! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I really enjoy reading what you all think! (Just for those who review only to tell me to update, please remember that I'm an adult with a full time job and am not a machine, I will 'update soon' when I can, but I can't always promise that.)**

* * *

"Keep your hands in your pockets," Walter said. "Extremities are the first to suffer in cold temperatures."

"Wish we could start a fire," Paige said, tucking her hands into her pockets as she and Walter sat down against the wall that was shared with the front seat. She knew it was too windy for that. But she was still cold.

"I called to Happy and Toby on the radio," he said. "Got no answer. The cold and the weather moving in might be doing something funny to the radio signal."

"Funny isn't exactly the word that I'd use," Paige said. She shifted her weight, lightly wincing. "My neck hurts a little."

"Hmm." Walter takes his hands out of his pockets, reaching over to gently massage the area. "It's either a response to the cold or you might have been injured in the crash. Adrenaline would be wearing down now."

Paige noticed his knee shaking ever so slightly, and her shoulders were getting that uncomfortable feeling that accompanied shivering. She pushed back the fact she'd learned in fourth grade – _shivering is the first stage of hypothermia._ People shivered all the time. She'd shivered in a walk in freezer at the restaurant. She'd shivered walking Ralph to the bus stop when California temperatures dropped below fifty degrees. Shivering was not a sign anything was seriously wrong.

"Walter, put your hands back in your pockets," she said. "I won't die from a sore neck."

The word _die_ causes both of them to stare a little longer before looking away from one another, Walter putting his hands back in his pockets and Paige looking at her legs, extended out in front of her. The entire length of them resting on the bottom of the van. She drew them up to her chest. "Walter, how long can we last out here?"

Walter scooted a little closer to her, so his right arm and her left made contact from shoulder to elbow. "We should be fine until this blows over and rescue gets here...as long as it doesn't get any colder."

* * *

"It's going to get a lot colder," Toby commented, looking at his laptop. "Good thing we got all that firewood in. We'll need it to stay toasty once Walter and Paige get here."

"They should be here any minute," Happy said, pacing the floor, holding the radio close to her ear for any possible transmission. "Hell, they should be here _by now_."

"Storm looks like it's getting pretty bad," Toby said, going to the door. Happy raised her eyebrows as she spoke into the radio. Toby grabbed the door handle. "I bet if I opened this I couldn't see the...ayk!" He staggered backward, letting go of the door as it whipped around, the wind pushing him backward and blowing snow into the outpost.

"Numbnuts!" Happy ran to the door and shoved her shoulder against it, forcing it closed. " _Do not_ do that! This door doesn't open unless we're letting someone in, got it?"

"That's the second time today I've been knocked backwards," Toby said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh stop it, you're not hurt."

"Just my pride." Toby looked again at the radar. "How worried should we be? Really?"

"We're already below freezing and it's going to get colder, we have no idea where Walter and Paige are or why they're not here, and we don't have any contact with them. We also have no clothes warm enough to venture out in a snowstorm so going to find them would be suicide even if we knew exactly where they were. I think we should be pretty worried."

"I know, but..." he shrugged.

"But it's Walter and Paige. And they've managed to accomplish a lot of crazy stuff. I know." Happy reached out with both hands, and Toby grabbed both of them. They stared at each other.

"We gotta have faith in them," Toby said. "And we also gotta radio Cabe and Sylvester and tell them they're missing, why have we not done that already?" He let go of her hands

"I did," Happy said. "While you were letting this snow tornado into the cabin. They're trying to put something out on the roads, it's too dangerous for air."

"Oh. Well. Good!" Toby came back in front of her and grabbed her hands again. "So yeah. Let's have a little faith. They'll be fine. They always are."

* * *

"What do you mean they aren't back yet?" Sylvester's hands were out to the side. "They were supposed to be back at the cabin!"

"They didn't make it," Cabe said. "The storm blew in about thirty minutes ahead of schedule, but they should have made it no problem."

"Do we think Ambrose Tex people's got them?" Sylvester asked.

"We don't have any sign of them in the area," Cabe said, shaking his head. "Oh, I don't like this." He grabbed the radio. "Walter! Where the Hell are you?"

"Maybe somehow they got their radio on the other channel?" Sylvester suggested.

Cabe looked at him. "Good idea." He flipped a switch on the radio, calling out to them again.

Silence. Sylvester remembered the silence that filled the room after Megan passed away. He used to like silence, like the calm. Now, silence had become a tell-tale sign that the there was no one else there.

He looked out the window, knowing that they were a thousand miles away but unable to look anywhere but the direction of his friends.

"Come on, guys."


	5. Murmur

**One more chapter up tonight, because I got stuff to do tomorrow. I'm thinking three more chapters if the story decides to behave and stay within my outline.**

* * *

"Body temperatures are dropping," Walter said, feeling both her body and his own shake as their shoulders trembled against each other. "Do you still have that water bottle?"

"It's in the front," Paige said, her teeth clattering against each other. "Why? It's probably frozen."

"We can't get dehydrated," Walter said. "I'll go get it."

He saw the anguished look on her face when he stood up, separating them both from their only source of heat. "Be right back."

He slipped out of the van, holding tightly to the door as it threatened to break off in the wind. Forcing it closed, he leaned against the van for support as he stumbled to the front.

Paige was right; as Walter himself had suspected, her water bottle had frozen – but thankfully not burst, as it had been half empty. Walter reached for it, cringing at his fingers' prolonged contact with the subzero weather. He shoved the bottle into the inside pocket of his jacket, hoping it'd help it melt without sucking too much heat from his body.

He leaned against the van, grateful that the wind was blowing in such a way that it wasn't working against him either direction he'd just had to move. Moments later, he forgot about that gratefulness when he forgot to hold onto the door to the back, yelping as the wind ripped it free and knocked him backwards into the snow.

" _Walter_!"

Dazed, he faintly heard her scrambling to the back of the van, then, before he could shout out and tell her no, not to expose herself to the elements, he'd get up in a moment, she was in the snow, dropping down next to him, a hand going to his forehead while the other one rested on his chest. "God Walter, you're bleeding."

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he mumbled, pulling himself into a sitting position. He didn't feel fine.

Her hands stayed in place; he could very faintly feel her thumb rubbing his forehead. Then the sensation stopped, and he saw her looking at her hand before showing it to him. "You're bleeding, Walter." She unbuttoned her coat and reached down her sweater, sliding her other arm through her coat sleeve, frowning and wiggling a bit, then pulled her bra up through the collar of her sweater. "I hope this works," she said, wrapping the bottom of it around his forehead, frowning. "If I can just get the side with the hooks attached to this fancy part on the side, the thing should be tight enough to...oh no!" In the cold, her dexterity was failing her. The bra snapped backwards, landing a few feet away in the snow. She crawled for it, shaking the snow off, and returned to Walter's side, managing this time, after a few fumbles, to hook the bra around his forehead. She sat back, nodding. "That should stop the bleeding, right?"

Walter supposed it was a good sign that all he could think about for a few moments was how ridiculous he must look. Then he cleared his throat. She'd asked a question. "Yes. Yes it should..." he got to his feet, grabbing her arms and pulling her with him. "We have to get back inside. This wind will kill us." In the minute and a half he'd been laying there in the wind's path, his face already felt like it had been put through a wood chipper.

They clambered back into the van, crawling to the back wall again, as far as they could be from the now open, exposed entrance. Paige rubbed her hands together; Walter was alarmed, they were damp, from his blood and from the snow. He reached over and put his right arm around her shoulders. "Put the backs of your hands together and hold them between your legs," he said. "You'll keep them warmest that way."

"What about your hands?" she asked pointedly, referring to his right hand, resting on her right arm.

"I'm okay," he said. "My sleeves are long enough to almost act as gloves. I'd have been okay, Paige, you didn't have to do that," he said after a moment. She wasn't dressed as warmly as he was, and now she was down her bra, the process of removing it having caused brief exposure of her stomach to the cold. She'd had her hands in the snow when she crawled to him, then when she went to retrieve her bra. She'd put herself in a much more disadvantaged position than he was. Her body temperature was falling and it wasn't going to warm up again until they had help.

"I couldn'tt leave you outt there," she said. "You wouldn't-tt have got-tt-en up." Her voice wasn't steady; she was shaking and it was effecting her ability to talk normally. "You k-kept saying one s-s-sec-cond." She sucked in a deep breath. "If you think I was going to leave you out there, you're not a genius. You're the farthest thing from."

"I know," Walter said. "You've never left me before. Not when it mattered." He was shaking too. The parts of his clothing that had come into the prolonged contact with the snow were damp. A terrible, dangerous sign.

* * *

Judging by Walter's estimated body temperature and the degree of melt in the water bottle when he remembered it, over an hour had passed. The general numbness he'd felt from the dampness of his clothes was gone; his clothes had either dried or he had lost feeling on the top layer of his skin.

"Paige," he said. "We have your water bottle. You should drink some."

His answer was some mumbling. Her head remained tucked, like a sleeping bird, her chin to her chest. He wondered if she had wanted to rest her head against him, but their clothes and already close proximity had made it too difficult.

"Paige," he said, suddenly on high alert. "Paige, you still with me?"

"Uh-uh," she said quietly. She was still shaking – a good sign; a very hypothermic body gave up shaking eventually – but her eyes were dull, and she looked paler than normal. She was getting worse.

He supposed he was too, then. "Come here," he said, leaning forward, reaching, getting a hand under her knees and swinging them over his, so her left leg pressed against his stomach. He pulled her upper body close, starting to rub her arm vigorously with the arm that encircled her. "Paige, stay with me, you can't go to sleep."

"Walter," she said, her voice sounding muffled. "Are we going to die?"

"No," he said, although he didn't feel as confident as he sounded. "No, we aren't going to die, okay? You know why?"

"Hmm?"

"Because of Ralph," Walter said. "Ralph needs us. You made me promise that one time, that I wouldn't leave you guys again. We both have to keep that promise to Ralph. And..." he thought of one more tactic to keep her there, piling it on, "and you need to stay awake for me, Paige. If you don't keep me talking, I might go to sleep. And if we both go to sleep, we don't walk out of here."

"I'm trying," she said again, lifting her head and shaking it as if to rouse herself. She looked up at him, eyeing his makeshift bandage. "This has shifted," she said, removing one of her hands from between her legs and lifting it to tug the bra back into position.

"Hey, while you're up," Walter said, fishing out the water bottle. "Tip your head back. There," he said, dribbling some of the water into her mouth. "Staying hydrated, because we're going to be okay. How about this? I'm thinking of a person. Guess him or her in twenty questions. This will help us survive."

"Walter."

"Come on," he said.

"Female?"

"Nope. But I'll let you have the next turn since it's just you and me."

"You and me." She bit her lip, her eyes either welling or glassing up. "Walter..."

"I know," he said. He briefly rested his lips on her forehead, rubbing her arm, readjusting her legs against him, putting his cheek to rest against the top of her head as it lay on his chest. She was still breathing, she wasn't hallucinating or trying to rip off her clothes as so many did in their last hours. But his stomach was growing sicker and sicker with guilt as more time passed, and it took longer and longer for her to respond when he continued trying to guess the person she was thinking of.

This was supposed to be an easy mission. That's what they'd all applauded, like they had many times before. But for once, they were right. For once, a seemingly easy mission turned out to be a truly easy mission. No unsuspecting human threat. No man made force to stop them.

It was just a drive, a drop, and a drive back.

But he had to get goofy, cocky, flirty, clowning around with the van to make Paige smile, to make Paige laugh, to maybe pretend for another minute that they _were_ something. Harmless fun, he called it.

Harmless fun that led to their tire being punctured, to the blowout, to where they were now.

Harmless fun that led to him being dizzy from both the cold and the wound on his forehead.

Harmless fun that was the direct reason that Paige Dineen was dying in his arms.

* * *

 **Coming up next – Quintis, who may or may not be coming up with a way to save the day.**


	6. Grunt

**Sorry for the wait for the next chapter - I do greatly appreciate the fact that I didn't come back to any messages demanding an update or wondering where the next chapter its, thanks guys. :) – Hope this was worth the wait!**

* * *

"If they're still in the van, they should be doing okay," Toby said. "They'll be out of the snow and the wind, they have water, and the van will last hours running at a standstill and will provide heat. And I mean, who has ever said no to naked spooning?"

"But if they had never left the vehicle," Happy said ignoring his last comment, "wouldn't they be here? Something had to have happened, either something went wrong with the van or people have come after them." She went to the counter, her fingers flying over the keys. "I wish I knew how far away they are. Once this weather dies down, if they're close, we could try to reach them with the truck."

"The gas light is on," Toby said. "We wouldn't make it thirty miles."

"But what if they're within thirty miles?" Happy said. "What if they just need the van pushed back onto the road, or what if one of them is injured?"

"I'm not that kind of doctor!"

"You do a hell of a better job patching people up than I do."

"But how can we find out where they are? That ancient cargo van isn't going to have a GPS, and their phones are out of service area. The weather is too bad for a helicopter." He shook his head. "Happy, I don't know if there's anything we can do."

"Damn." She sank down on the couch, slapping her knees before resting her head in her hands. "This was supposed to be such an easy job."

"That's where we went wrong, thinking that," Toby said. He reached over, touching one of Happy's hands. She removed it from her forehead and grabbed onto his. "We don't have any answers. This is weird."

"It's weird," Toby agreed, letting out a loud breath. "Unless..."

Happy looked at him hopefully. "You have an idea?"

He jumped to his feet. "Maybe." He tapped the stereo that took up half the one wall. "You think this thing works?"

"I know what you're thinking," Happy said, grabbing her toolbox. "Let me fashion an amp just in case."

* * *

"Is this person taller than six feet?"

Her voice was raspy. "No."

"Is this person a natural born citizen of the United States?"

"No."

"Of Canada?"

"No."

Walter looked at the water bottle that was perched on his legs below the knees. It was empty. He'd forced Paige to take all of it in the last...hour? Two hours? He had no concept of time anymore. He didn't even know what question he was on, or if he'd asked any of them before. He shifted his weight, alarmed when he found that his muscles didn't want to work. He grunted uncomfortably.

"Walter."

"I'm right here," he said to her, tightening his arms, craning his neck downward as he pressed his forehead – sideways, against hers. She tipped her head upward; he could feel her light, shallow breath against his skin. "I'm sorry." He squeezed her arm. "God, I'm sorry."

"Ralph?" Paige said, sounding confused.

Walter wasn't sure what he mumbled in response. Did she know something he didn't? Was Ralph looking for them? He hoped Ralph wasn't out by himself in the cold. Ralph should stay home, where it was safe. "Go home, Ralph," he said. "It's cold out here." He hoped Ralph would listen. The kid marched to the beat of his own drum sometimes, but he was logical. He only took calculated risks.

Walter lifted his head as his ears picked up on something. Was it Ralph's drum? No, it wasn't a drum, just music. It occurred to him that Ralph didn't have drums and there wasn't supposed to be music out here. Was he only imagining the music? Delusions, it was a sign his body was reaching ninety degrees, established by some as the point where one loses all sense of clarity. Then Paige stirred. "Huh?"

He knew he hadn't said anything; she had to be talking about the music, didn't she? "You hear that?"

"What?" Paige asked, lifting her head. "What is it?"

"It's a signal," Walter said. "They want to know if we're still alive." Was it adrenaline or was his mind tricking him? Walter had no idea, he had no idea about much of anything save his sudden feeling of confidence in his ability to let Happy and Toby know that they were still here, they heard them, they were close. "I have to return it."

Paige moaned painfully when Walter moved, clumsily scooting away from her, causing her unbalanced figure to slide from him to the floor. Her legs jerked as her muscles protested the shift in position and she let out a sharp cry like a wounded animal that just felt a steel trap snap shut around a limb.

"I'll be back," Walter said, crawling toward the door, trying to slide out and stand up but failing, falling again into the snow. He couldn't tell if Paige was trying to come to his rescue again; if he was thinking clearly he'd know that in her state she probably didn't even notice. He managed to haul himself up, leaning on the van, stumbling toward the front. He didn't realize he'd left the door open the last time; there was snow all blown through. The key was still in the ignition; Walter grunted as he struggled to turn it. Finally, the engine kicked to life. The fume smell returned; it burned his sensitive nose as he leaned against the volume button and let it go full volume.

The wind picked up. Walter hoped it was blowing in the direction of the help; he had no sense of direction anymore, but he _thought_ it was the right direction. He turned to head back to his shelter.

It probably took him ten solid minutes to make the short stumble to the back of the van, and when he got there, he found he couldn't lift himself up enough to get inside. He leaned against it, his upper body in the van and his lower body struggling to hold his weight outside, vulnerable to the remnants of the storm.

Paige was still against the far wall, just five feet from him, if that, curled into the fetal position. He looked to the side, straining his eyes against the snow. Would help come? It had to come. They always made it.

His eyes wanted to close, they _were_ closing, he couldn't stop them, he turned his head, his line of sight on Paige, then his vision was blocked by his eyelids and he felt himself slumping backwards into the drift. It occurred to him that if he really thought they'd make it, he wouldn't have been so sure to make her the last thing he saw.

* * *

"You hear that?" Happy threw on her coat. "They're alive! At least one of them. Come on, doc, we're gonna save them!" She grabbed the radio, shouting their plan to Cabe and Sylvester, turning the radio off when Cabe began lecturing her on the risk involved in her plan.

Her sudden optimism startled Toby, but he was on board. He cranked the volume on the stereo again. "Let them know we're coming," he said, counting to forty five as he did the first time before turning it off. "I'm right behind you!" he said in protest of Happy's demand he follow her.

They ran outside, Happy jumping in the truck and Toby running around to the passenger side. "Will this thing go through the snow?" Toby asked.

"There's only about a foot in the areas that haven't drifted," Happy said. "Less on the road because the wind could get through and blow it off. We'll force our way through. I'll get to them."

"I suppose if anyone could convince a machine to do something it doesn't want to do," Toby said, "it'd be you."

"It's not about convincing," Happy said. "It's a truck, it operates within its mechanical limitations."

"Thankfully, we're living, breathing, hot blooded individuals who don't have mechanical limitations," Toby said. "What? I thought that sounded empowering."

"Humans have limitations," Happy said, "and Walter and Paige might have already reached theirs."

Her impatient look turned into a hard glare in Toby's direction. He took a step backward hesitantly. "What did I do?"

" _Get in the damn truck_."

* * *

 **I hope it wasn't too confusing to follow the Walter/Paige scenes – I found it pretty difficult to try and write the disorientation that comes with lowering body temperatures from the perspective of someone who thinks like Walter and at his capacity. Hopefully it all came across okay!**


	7. Contact

**Sorry about going like a week without updating. Hopefully this bit of a longer chapter will be worth it/will make up for the wait! There will be one more after this one.**

* * *

"If we don't find them in a couple miles, we won't be able to get back."

"So we ditch the truck and walk."

Toby knew that Happy knew he wasn't seriously suggesting turning back. "Just stating a fact," he said. "It's what Walter would do."

"Let's let Walter be Walter," Happy said. "You be Toby."

"I'm continuing to talk when I probably shouldn't be," he pointed out. "That's pretty Toby to me."

He was pleased to see her smirk, appreciating his efforts even in a situation like this. Her lips pressed together nervously as she watched the gas gauge. They'd used up about half of what was left.

Then Toby jumped in his seat. "What's that?"

"Oh my god." Happy eased the truck around a drift, putting on the breaks. The truck skidded. "Of course this thing wouldn't have antilock brakes."

She and Toby threw off their seatbelts and exited the truck. "Good God, that's Walter," Toby said, rushing to his friend's side. "Walter! Walter!"

He stopped, looking at Happy, then back to the unconscious man in the snow. "He has a bra on his head, oh buddy, what were you guys doing?"

"Looks like he's injured," Happy said, sliding the bra to the side. "Must have happened a while ago, if they bandaged it." She placed her hand against Walter's neck, putting her head on his chest and listening. "There's a heartbeat."

Toby looked inside the front of the van. "Paige isn't in here." He ran back around to where Happy was taking Walter's pulse, looking inside the back. "Oh my God." He crawled inside, placing his own hand and head where Happy had on Walter. "She's got a pulse too!" He put a hand next to her nose and mouth. "She's breathing." He slid his arms around her and began to creep backward. "Paige, can you hear me?"

No respone.

"Ugh, I can't lift him!" Happy said, half of Walter's body in her arms off the ground, his legs sagging to the snow. Her knees buckled, she hunched over in an attempt to not drop him. She staggered forward, half carrying, half dragging Walter toward the truck.

Toby gathered Paige up, making his way behind Happy and Walter, though the snow, back to the truck. They managed to get both of them into the front; Happy was way on the left side of the driver's seat, Toby squeezed against the doorway of the passenger side, the two unconscious forms wedged between them. Happy had to have both hands on the steering wheel, but Toby wrapped his arms around his friends as best he could as the mechanic slowly began to turn the truck around, careful to avoid drifts.

"We've got you guys," Toby said. He remembered it was best, when people may or may not be able to hear, to make it clear who he was talking to. "Walter. It's going to be okay, Walter. We're going to warm you up. Paige, you too, you're going to be okay."

"We might not be, though," Happy said. "We're running out of gas."

"Should we stop driving and just let the car run for the heat?"

They both considered it for a moment, then simultaneously shook their heads. It was more important to get close to the cabin and get them inside. They could carry them there if need be.

* * *

The truck sputtered to a stop slightly more than three eighths of a mile from the cabin. "Get Paige inside first," Happy said, "because we'll need the two of us to carry Walter and if we're going to leave one of them alone, I want them to be inside."

"Good plan." Toby exited the truck, careful to not let Paige topple out after him until Happy got around to his side. She helped shift Paige into Toby's arms, and he staggered backward in the uneven snow, turning and starting to jog, albeit slowly, toward the outpost.

Happy wanted to take Walter's hands and rub them, get heat into them, they were still _so cold_ , but she knew that wasn't smart. Walter and Paige needed their core body temperatures to warm. She pulled her friend close to her, huddling against him. "It's Happy, Walter," she said. "Your fellow former robot. We've gotten through a lot of crazy stuff doing what little she could until Toby returned and they could both haul him into the cabin.

* * *

Toby lowered Paige as delicately as he could – admittedly, it was possible to do a better job – onto the couch, and tugged off her clothes. Thankfully, she wasn't locked in the fetal position; he didn't have to cut them away. He could put them by the fire to dry them out. She groaned again as her limbs moved against her will. "I'm sorry," Toby said, moving over to the stove and resting her clothes beneath it. He took off his jacket and laid it over her. Paige stirred again, still barely conscious, but this time her eyes focused on him.

"Toby."

As his name escaped her barely parted lips, Toby felt his heart leap. She knew who he was. She was cold, she was hypothermic, she still might not make it out without permanent damage, but she knew who he was, which meant her body temperature was, at worse, eighty seven degrees. People have been revived at eighty degrees. She had a good chance.

"Paige, I gotta go back and get Walter," Toby said, speaking slowly, unsure if she understood him but wanting to give her every chance. "Happy has Walter in the truck, it's about a half mile from here, I'll be back in a half hour, you have to hang on, okay? Don't give up. We're going to take care of you guys."

"Toby."

Toby grabbed a blanket from behind the couch, silently thanking the him and Happy of earlier in the day for _not_ using it, and put it over her, tucking it into the cushions, securing her. "Paige, I can't put you by the stove because if you warm up too fast you'll go into shock. I'm going to get Walter. It's going to be okay, just rest." He found a pot on one of the shelves, filled it with water from the emergency supply, and set it on the stove.

He pulled her hair away from her face; it was cold and wet and she didn't need it plastered against her skin. Then he turned and exited the room, securing the door and breaking into a run.

* * *

"When they wake up I want to know why Paige decided to use her bra to stop the bleeding on his forehead," Toby said.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Happy said, stopping and frowning.

"You need a break?" Toby asked.

She adjusted her grip on Walter. "No. But I left the radio in the truck. We can't go back for it," she added, moving forward again. "Cabe and Sylvester know where we are, we have to get him inside."

"Cabin is right up there," Toby said, stating the obvious yes, but assurance had gotten all of them this far. "We're almost there, Walt, hang on."

* * *

Upon getting Walter inside the cabin, they lowered him to the ground in front of the couch. Happy leaned over to check on Paige. "Her heart rate is improving," she announced. "Get that water you boiled and set it where it can cool enough to use."

"Yes boss," Toby said, wrapping his hand in Paige's shirt and using it as a mitt. He set the pan out of the way. "I have a bag we can use."

"Good." Happy was pulling Walter's pants down his legs. "Put these where Paige's were, they're in worse shape right now. Is there another blanket?"

"Uh..." Toby glances around. "I wish I could say yes, but this place isn't exactly equipped for a rescue operation."

"Okay you guys," Happy said. "It's time to learn about sharing." She eased the blanket off of Paige's upper body, removing the coat Toby had slung over her, then replacing the blanket. She removed Walter's coat, pleased to find out that his undershirt had stayed dry. She left it on, putting his arms as best she could through the sleeves. She then grabbed Paige's jeans, warm from the fire as well as from the pot, and laid them over Walter's legs.

"Come on, guys," Toby said, realizing he must have been clenching his jaw, because it hurt. "You can do this."

"You said Paige was conscious when you left her?" Happy asked.

"Barely. But she knew who I was."

"She's just resting then. She'll wake up in a couple of hours. Happy didn't realize until now how badly _she_ was shivering, and Toby too, from their – brief compared to Walter and Paige – exposure to the elements. "Walt, buddy, come on, you gotta give us something."

"He's probably still in afterdrop," Toby said. "He'll start to warm up soon."

"He's worse off than her, now," Happy said. "Being outside when we found him."

"My guess is he gave most of that water they had to her, too," Toby said. "Come on, Walter." He dropped to his knees, rubbing his friend's back. "If you won't fight this for yourself, do it for her. She's right here. She's going to be fine, but you need to be fine too. Come on, Walter, stay strong." He dipped his elbow in the pot of water. "Almost cool enough to put in the bags."

"Let's start tying them up then."

By the time Happy and Toby had finished preparing the large garbage bags, triple layering them in case there were small leaks, the water was cool enough to not damage the integrity of the plastic. Toby tipped the pot, filling the garbage bag with water. "I wish we had more water," he lamented. "We could do this easier with more surface area." He went to the door, opening it, scooping snow up into the pot, heaping it, and setting it by the stove. "We can add more in twenty minutes, I suppose."

Happy slid Walter a few feet away from the couch, then eased Paige off of it to lay next to him. She took the makeshift hot water bottle and lay it over them, then covering their forms and the bag with the blanket. "This shouldn't overheat them."

"They've been out of the elements for a while at this point," Toby agreed, running to get more snow with his hands when the snow in the pot melted and took up less room. "Don't they do stuff like this in hospitals, too, though? I swear I remember reading something about it, though admittedly, extreme cold was never my focus."

Happy's voice was small. "I just want them to wake up."

Since they'd begun their relationship, Toby had gotten used to seeing her falter. He'd seen her emotionally vulnerable and he was glad to be the person that she trusted enough to show that side to.

But when she got like this, quiet and unsure, it scared him. Or so he was realizing now.

He'd never seen her like this before.

* * *

Paige had never felt such a complete unwillingness to move.

No one was asking her to move, but if she knew one thing and one thing only, it was that she didn't want to. She ached. She felt stiff, she was exhausted, she did not want to move.

She heard someone saying her name. It sounded like Happy. She vaguely remembered Toby saying something to her a few minutes ago – or was it longer than that? She realized she had no idea.

She tried to think back. There was snow. There was a van. There was this feeling of unbearable cold – a chill that she realized she was still feeling now. Her hands hurt; she opened her eyes and tried to see them. She couldn't. She didn't want to move.

"Paige."

That was definitely someone saying her name. She wanted to ask what was going on, but her entire body protested at the first word, so her voice trailed off. "What..."

"It's Happy. Hang in there, Dineen. Help is coming. Cabe and Sylvester will send help as soon as the weather cleared."

"What..." Why couldn't she get more than that out? Suddenly Paige wondered if she _could_ move, if she wanted to. That made her want to. She tipped her head to the side, opening her eyes. The brightness around her made her want to close them again.

There was a stove, and a desk, and various materials strung around the room. She couldn't make them out. Walter was in the way.

 _Walter_.

He was lying next to her, his eyes closed, his body still. She remembered him being hit with the van door. She remembered him in the snow, his blood on her hands. She felt weak, dizzy, panic stricken. Her eyes closed again.

"Hey. Hey, Paige, calm down." It was Toby's voice this time. She focused on it. "He'll be fine. We're just warming him up, just like we are you. Just relax. Help will be here soon."

She moved her hand, painfully, across the floor between them, searching for his under the blanket, hoping it was in her line of motion because she didn't think she could shift her position anymore. She was met with resistance, cold resistance, the feeling in her fingers still almost nonexistent. She thought it was his hand.

"Look," came Happy's voice. Paige deduced she must be talking to Toby. She heard him respond, affirming he saw what she saw. Then Paige felt something take hold of her wrist, move it over, and rest it on top of something else.

"There you go," Happy said. "You've got his hand. Now relax. We're going to give you a little more heat now. Just rest. They'll be here soon."

Paige took that to mean she could fall asleep again. They were usually right.


	8. Home

**I would have updated this yesterday. But we got a foot of snow and it was cold and windy and I work outside and you probably can see why this fic was not something I particularly wanted to finish then, haha.**

 **ANYWAY, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I've had a ton of fun writing this fic, I'm glad they announced an episode called White Out because it inspired me to actually dig this draft up and finish it before we actually GOT a snow episode. Hope you all like this last chapter!**

* * *

"The waiting is the worst," Sylvester said quietly. "It always has been."

A hand reached over from the chair next to him and closed around his. Sylvester offered a small smile.

"Their prognosis should be good," Toby said.

"We know that, you've said that," Happy said tensely, her knuckles white from holding onto the armrests of her chair. "You _keep_ saying that. It won't make it any more or less true."

"Then there's no harm in saying it," Toby pointed out. He looked at her. "Hey," he said in a gentle voice. "You know they'll be okay."

She nodded. "I know." She let her eyes shift to Toby. "We did good out there."

"Yeah." He smiled, grabbing one of her hands. "We did real good."

"Get a room," Sylvester said jokingly.

Happy leaned around Toby to look at him. "Oh, _we had one."_

Toby smirked triumphantly. "And we used it."

* * *

"How much longer?"

It was a question they all wanted to know. It felt like hours since Walter and Paige had been taken away, and it _had_ been nearly a half hour since Cabe had risen from his seat to find someone on staff who might know something about their condition.

"Cabe, thank God." Sylvester jumped out of his chair, and the others stood up quickly as he walked up. "What's the news? Did you see them?"

"There's still a risk of one or both of them losing fingers, a part of their ear maybe, but they're essentially out of the woods," Cabe said. "Walter has a concussion, but they've classified it as a grade two, so it isn't life threatening. I ah," he cleared his throat. "I asked that they be put in the same room. They won't remember everything, not right away, maybe not ever, but..."

"But they will remember how dire their chances seemed," Toby finished. "And if they wake up and can't see each other they might panic."

"Exactly." Cabe nodded. "Once they wake up they'll have a better idea of how quickly recovery will be. But they're very optimistic."

"Oh thank God," Sylvester said, sinking back down in the chair. "When can we see them?"

"They're both expected to regain consciousness relatively soon," Cabe said. "Once they do, they'll let us in one at a time."

"Can I go first?"

Everyone looked at the one who had asked. "Of course you can," Toby said.

Cabe nodded. " _You should_."

* * *

Walter shifted uncomfortably, opening his eyes. He had an oxygen tube under his nose. A glance to his right told him he had an I.V. in his arm; he was normally sensitive to the tape used to hold it in place, but he must not have all the feeling back yet. His hands hurt, but for the first time in what seemed like a very, very long time, he felt warm.

He remembered the cold. It was coming back...not a detailed play by play no, but...when he'd briefly woken up hours earlier on a helicopter Cabe had told him, and that helped the memories flow. He remembered the tire, and the boulder, and the door, and his blood on Paige's hands, and her body in his arms, struggling to warm itself; struggling to stay awake. He remembered at one point having her bra wrapped around his forehead and now that he remembered that he thought he felt a bandage in the bra's place. He remembered, at the end, it was painful for both of them to move, and he remembered leaving her in the back of the van to get help and not being able to get back.

"Paige."

His voice didn't sound quite right. He tipped his head to his other side, away from the machines hooked up to his body. She was just feet away, in the next bed, a number of tubes connected to her as well. He noticed her hands, discolored and blistered. They didn't look too bad. He was sure his hands looked similar, which meant her hands probably _felt_ bad.

She opened her eyes, turning her head with a quiet groan, looking over at him. "You're alive," she said in a whisper.

" _We're_ alive," he said, a corner of his mouth turning up, remembering something she said to him once, how important it was that they both survive. "Happy and Toby found us."

"Yeah." She gave a small nod. "If our fate had to be in anyone's hands, I'm glad it was them." She was quiet for a moment. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He cleared his throat. He wanted water. "If it wasn't for me we wouldn't have crashed. My idiotic...shenanigans...you almost died because of me." He couldn't tell if his voice was cracking due to his dry throat or his emotions. "I'd do anything, Paige. To keep you safe. And I almost killed you." One of his eyes – the one closest to his head injury – was twitching.

"You couldn't...couldn't have known that tire was going to blow," she said, clearing her own throat. Her voice sounded strange too, dry, somewhat raspy. He still liked how it sounded. "Walter...you saved my life. You kept me hydrated, kept me talking. Kept me as warm as you could." She bit her lip. "I know you'd do anything for me. That's why I'm still here. Walter, my son still has his mother because of you. And..." she fell silent, and he wondered if she was falling asleep. "And..." she continued, "You know, before...I was having a good time. With you. Enjoying the easy mission, goofing off a bit...it was fun. It was easy." She gave him a smile. "It was...nice."

They looked at each other for a long moment, then she bit her lip. "Your head hurt?"

"Yes. But it would have been worse if it'd been allowed to bleed. You sacrificed some of your heat to bandage me up."

"I'd do anything to keep you safe too," she said quietly.

"I know."

"Mr. O'Brien? Ms Dineen?"

The nurse accompanied her voice by rapping her knuckles against the door. "My name is Sharmika. How do you both feel?"

"Deader than I'd like," Walter said. "But alive enough that you shouldn't be too concerned." He blinked. "Oh God, I'm turning into Toby."

"We have a visitor, if you're up to it," Sharmika said.

They both smiled when they saw who it was. He ran to Paige's bed and put his hand over hers.

"Mommy."


End file.
